


a margrave's duties

by bickz



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Asphyxiation, Blow Jobs, Breathplay, Choking, Come Shot, Come Swallowing, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Face-Fucking, Hook-Up, M/M, Manipulation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oneshot, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Dynamics, Pre-Time Skip, Rough Oral Sex, Sexual Coercion, Shameless Smut, Skull Fucking, Slut Shaming, Throat Fucking, bickz kinktober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:33:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26726734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bickz/pseuds/bickz
Summary: Sylvain should never be trusted; Dimitri is too naive to know better.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 47
Collections: bickz's kinktober 2020





	a margrave's duties

**Author's Note:**

> so! this is the first entry in my very vanilla kinktober!! yay!!!! 
> 
> day #1 prompts: face-fucking | hook-up | manipulation

“This… this is what you need, isn’t it?” Sylvain’s mouth is so close, his lips glistening so beautifully.

Dimitri makes a strangled noise, which only serves to heat up his face even more. How could he possibly make words work while Sylvain is kneeling so dutifully before him, his childhood friend offering something incredibly obscene, challenging every moral fiber inside Dimitri? His mind races as he tries to bite back the hungry animal within, trying so desperately to listen to that little voice screaming  _ ‘No, don’t do it, this is taboo, this is wrong, don’t--’ _

“Dima?” Sylvain speaks up, yanks his prince out of his panicked thoughts. “It’s okay. I’ll give you what you need.” His hand trails up the side of Dimitri’s leg, fingers pressing into the meat of his thigh as it goes up, up, up. Even through the fabric of his pants, Dimitri can feel the tempting heat of Sylvain’s palm. “I’ll be your Margrave one day; so, it’s only natural that I help you with something such as this.”

Dimitri swallows hard, tries to will away the warmth that seeps into his abdomen. “Sylvain, I’m not so sure,” he manages to reply, his voice quivering. 

A wicked smile spreads over Sylvain’s mouth. “Don’t worry, I’ll change your mind real quick,” he promises, and without further delay, he leans forward the last few inches to press his lips against the front of Dimitri’s trousers, directly where all his blood is beginning to flow.

The most undignified noise escapes Dimitri, and he tries to pull away, but is trapped between the wall and Sylvain’s surprisingly firm grip on his thigh. All he can do is whimper pathetically while the redhead noses at his growing bulge. Oh, Seiros save his soul.

"You need this, my  _ prince _ ," Sylvain breathes hot against Dimitri's straining cock. His hands finally make it to the blond's waistband, and without warning, he hooks his fingers in and begins to pull down. "You need me to take care of you -- trust me."

Dimitri is rendered speechless, brings a hand up to his mouth to stifle the disgustingly desperate noises that threaten to spill out of his quivering lips. He can't lie -- he does need this,  _ wants _ this, so ridiculously badly. But there's no way that he could say that out loud, could articulate such a sinful, deplorable desire, especially when considering his position of royalty, his fidelity to the Goddess. There’s no law or teaching that specifically forbids an act such as what Sylvain is implying, and honestly, maybe there is some fine print dictating that it’s a margrave’s duty to assist the king with his…  _ jewels _ . Still, for all the humiliation Dimitri is currently feeling, he’s not so sure of such bold, possibly blasphemous assumptions.

If Sylvain cared even an ounce about Dimitri's hesitation, he doesn't show it. Before his lord can even catch his breath, the Gautier heir is forcefully tugging down Dimitri's trousers, grinning at the sight of his erect cock springing free, already wet at the tip. Shame makes Dimitri cover his flushed face, unable to watch his childhood friend for even another second.

"Aw, c'mon, Dima, no need to be so shy. Your dick is beautiful," Sylvain coos, so close that his warm breath washes over Dimitri's eager cock; the blond whines despite his best efforts to hold it in. "I'm gonna take care of you, trust me," he repeats, and for some reason, those words offer little comfort.

Dimitri should’ve pushed Sylvain away. He should’ve closed the door on this smooth-talking lecher when he knocked at such a late hour, should’ve rejected the scamp the second he dropped to his knees while spewing lewd nonsense. But for some stupid reason (was it the fact that he  _ trusts _ Sylvain with his life, or that he’s actually dreamt of this for  _ years _ ), Dimitri let Sylvain in, let himself become cornered, let the hungry animal within him be roused awake.

“Syl-Sylvain,” Dimitri mutters from behind his palm. The redhead has gotten his hands on his prince, is quick to start up a leisurely rhythm up and down his shaft.

“Yes, my prince?” Sylvain responds promptly, intent clear in his amber eyes and lopsided grin. He knows what he’s doing, has already done, and the fact that Dimitri can’t discern a logical reason behind it all is both terrifying and exhilarating.

“You… if I’m not mistaken, that is…” Dimitri swallows hard, steels himself as he watches those trained hands work at his length. “You know how to… use your mouth, correct?”

Sylvain blinks, shock visible on his features for only a moment before his smirk grows. “Well, of course I do. And even if I didn’t, I would still do it for you.”

That’s all Dimitri needed to hear. He takes a breath, reaches his shaky hands down to gently push his fingers through that luscious red hair and is rewarded with a content sigh from Sylvain. They stare intensely at each other, Dimitri’s shame quickly disappearing as Sylvain continues to stroke the beast, quite literally. Before the prince realises it, his hips are moving on their own, thrusting forward into the tight, warm circle of his childhood friend’s calloused fingers. The heat in Dimitri’s abdomen is growing at an exponential rate, but to be fair, he’s lasted much longer than either of them expected, considering his quite frankly offensive vow of chastity. 

“Sylvain…” Dimitri speaks his name, and it feels funny in his mouth, like a dirty curse, but he kinda likes it. Sylvain must like it too, because he lets out the sweetest purr, closes his eyes and leans into Dimitri’s hands still combing slowly through his hair. “My Sylvain,” he repeats, moving one hand down his friend’s face, lightly stroking his cheek, before pressing the pad of his thumb against those plush lips. Dimitri wants to say what he truly means, what he’s feeling, what he wants,  _ needs _ , but Sylvain already knows.

Those lips open without a word, and Dimitri feels his breath catch as his thumb disappears into that delicious wet heat. Sylvain looks up at him through his lashes and makes a scene of sucking on his lord’s finger, swirling his tongue around it in the most promising way, and that was all the confirmation Dimitri needed. He brings his other hand down and roughly pushes at Sylvain’s lips until he’s willingly opening his mouth. This has been done before, by others less worthy, and that thought makes something dark swell within Dimitri, makes him furrow his brow in displeasure as he pushes his hips closer, until his tip is bumping against Sylvain’s chin. 

“My Sylvain,” Dimitri says it again as his cock breaches Sylvain’s mouth. “My  _ whore _ .”

It’s almost like Dimitri said the magic word, as Sylvain lets out a deep groan before leaning forward, feeding the entirety of the royal member into his searing hot throat. There’s no preamble, no playful suckling or licks. No, Sylvain takes his lord’s whole length in one breath, the tip easily prodding the back of his throat. Dimitri lets out what could only be considered a predatory growl as he feels Sylvain’s throat constrict around him, and before he can stop himself, he’s taking up a fistful of bright red hair in order to keep his cock where it belongs, deep in his friend’s throat.

“Oh,  _ Goddess _ ,” Dimitri hisses, staring wide-eyed, amazed at Sylvain’s gorgeous face, his perfect lips split open on his dick, his lovely straight nose buried in a nest of golden curls, his eyes rolling back as tears begin to slip down his flushed cheeks. 

Dimitri finally pulls out once he senses that Sylvain is beginning to go faint, still holds firmly onto that fistful of hair as his friend sputters and gasps for breath. A smirk quickly returns to the redhead’s face, even as drool and tears stain his otherwise composed visage. “Anything for you, my prince. Use me however you need,” he states, his voice already becoming raspy.

Without another word, Dimitri brings his hips forward, and Sylvain dutifully opens up, braces himself with a hand on each of the blond’s thighs. This time, Dimitri is gentler, pushes in, and pulls out before he reaches the back of Sylvain’s throat. He watches his friend’s face the entire time, groans hungrily when the redhead tries to take some control and swirls his tongue around his lord’s tip, surges forward to choke himself on the thick cock in his mouth. As much as Dimitri wants this to last forever, wants to be the last person Sylvain ever pleasures, he can’t deny the beast its reward. He so desperately needs his completion, Goddess, he’s needed this for so long, and he feels incredibly blessed to have such a dedicated friend to give it to him.

“Sylvain, my most sincere apologies,” Dimitri grunts as he gets a hand on either side of Sylvain’s jaw. Teary amber eyes look up at him, and if Dimitri didn’t know better, he would think that Sylvain was begging him to do this. 

Dimitri slams his hips forward, letting out an absolutely feral growl as he pulls Sylvain’s ruined face flush against his crotch. He holds the redhead there for a few beats, feels his cocksleeve’s throat try to feebly extricate the rigid length lodged deep within its heat, groaning as he humps against Sylvain’s face, before he’s pulling back, a heavy string of spit connecting his tip to those swollen red lips. Sylvain gasps for air, but Dimitri doesn’t give him much time to recover, is immediately fucking back in, like he’s trying to carve out a place for himself. The boar prince is demanding exclusivity rights to this throat, is marking this Gautier as his own personal whore with every brutal thrust of his hips. Dimitri can feel the strength leaving Sylvain as he fucks his throat raw, chokes him out until he’s coughing and all but begging for air. The hands on his thighs are grasping, blunt nails digging into his skin, yet at no point does Sylvain try to pull away, try to stop himself from being used like this. 

Sylvain needs this, too.

“Mine,” Dimitri snarls, finally pulling out completely, staring down at Sylvain as he gasps and wheezes, but never backs away, using every last ounce of his strength to remain upright on his knees. He even manages a weary smirk when their eyes meet, deliberately opening his mouth wide, as if he knows that Dimitri is on the edge of his climax. “My Sylvain.”

Dimitri takes his own cock in one hand, strokes fervidly at its length slickened by Sylvain’s spit, the tip positioned against his bruised bottom lip. He cards his fingers through his friend’s soft hair, remarkably gentle compared to his aggressiveness just moments ago. It only takes a few quick tugs for Dimitri to feel the tension in his abdomen snapping, groaning loudly as he spills his seed onto Sylvain’s tongue.

“Yea, just like that,” Sylvain moans obscenely after swallowing, licking his lips eagerly. “I’m yours to use as you please, Dima.” He even leans forward, gives the tip of his prince’s cock a few kitten licks to get every last drop as Dimitri pumps himself until he’s softening, hissing through his teeth at the pleasure-pain of working himself oversensitive.

A few quiet moments pass as Dimitri calms down from his orgasm, slumps back against the wall with the sudden onset of exhaustion, while Sylvain catches his breath, wiping his sleeve over his beautifully ruined face, an image that will result in many a sleepless night for his lord. 

Dimitri is the one to break the heavy silence that falls over them, his tone quiet, his expression unreadable, “Sylvain?”

“Mhmm?” 

“Never speak of this,” Dimitri orders coldly.

“Of course, my prince,” Sylvain lilts with his trademark lopsided smirk. “I never do.”


End file.
